It's The Waiting Around That I Can't Stand
by PoisoningPigeonsinthePark
Summary: Cenred's a little depressed to discover just how boring it is being dead. That is... Until he bumps into Nimueh, and she teaches him how to play 'The Yes Game'.
1. Chapter 1

It's The Waiting Around That I Can't Stand...

**A/N: Just a bit of OOC fun (although Cenred never really had enough character for him to be out of it anyway, unless he took up ballet and started wearing bunny slippers. That would be pretty out of character) Reviews are always appreciated and replied to!**

Cenred sat in the great, black void of emptiness, scuffing what would once have been his boots against what he could only describe as a floor.

He felt a bit sad.

More than anything, he was just bored.

Now that he didn't exist, he just didn't have anything to do with his time. Eternity could become so monotonous.

When he was dying, Cenred had imagined he was headed for hellfire and brimstone and such; but apparently eternal damnation doesn't apply to fictional characters.

So, there he was. Sitting around endlessly. Doing sod all.

He seemed to spend all of his time waiting around; desperately hoping that someone, somewhere would decide to write a story about him. It would only be a momentary escape, and the fanfictions he usually popped up in were often of questionable quality, but he wasn't too bothered. It was something to _do_.

He occasionally got the chance to make an appearance in people's flashbacks, and that wasn't too bad: at least he knew what he was expected to do.

He quite liked the alternate universe ones, or even the ones set in the future; although he often ended up far too nice for his liking in those things.

_Hell_, he thought to himself, scratching what was probably his chin,_ I'd even take one of those Cenrause fics right about now..._

And then Cenred's thoughts trickled off in the direction of Morgause. He'd been mildly disappointed when she killed him, but not particularly surprised.

His mother had always warned him about girls like her. She'd sat him down and told him that, if he didn't want to go in the way of his father, he'd stay away from beautiful women. They have an awkward habit of killing people.

Cenred sighed, wishing he'd listened to his mother and married a nice, pretty girl with mulch for brains. He could still hear her voice in his head as she told him: _That's the sort of girl you want, lad. Someone nice and simple who couldn't wrap her head around treachery if she tried._

He smiled at the crisp, clear memory of his mother in his mind. Cenred really did love his mummy. It was times like these he wished he hadn't killed her.

Cenred shook his head, wishing he could see his shiny hair swish around once more as he did so. Of all the things Cenred missed about life... his wealth... his power... his armies... the thing he missed most was definitely his hair.

_Oh!_

He moaned to himself mournfully.

What glorious hair it had been!

There were bald men who would have _killed_ for hair like his. To think that he could never run his fingers through it again... Cenred couldn't bear it. It was too cruel.

He leaned further back into the nothing, and pondered whether it was really so bad. Sure, he was stuck for eternity with nothing but his own mind for company, and he'd never been a genius (hence his gullibility when it came to long-haired pretty magic women with bones to pick); but he could think of worse things.

After all, there were advantages to no longer having a body.

He didn't have to wear leather all the time.

That was quite nice.

He'd forgotten how loose and light a body could feel when it wasn't so tightly restricted. He also didn't miss the squeaking noise his trousers had made as he walked; that had somewhat undermined his credibility as a scary guy... It had also led to a number of embarrassing situations at banquets that nearly always ended up with him having to assassinate everyone in the room just to save face. It was such effort.

He had enjoyed being a baddie, though. At least it had been fun while it lasted. He'd spent a long time practising, and cracked a lot of mirrors, but he'd finally got the crazy evil stare down to a fine art. And his manic cackle was, quite frankly, second to none.

_But people do expect so much of you when you're a bad guy_, he thought to himself. _It really is harder than it looks._ Everyone was always expecting him to do something dramatic and scary; it was always, _"Ooh, Cenred! You're so rebellious!"_ He had quite a reputation to live up to. Before long, it was _"Hey, Cenred, you're just not cool anymore. Where were you last friday when we all went raping and pillaging?"_

Being a medieval evil dictator was hard work.

Cenred snapped to attention, he thought for a second he heard the sounds of someone very cautiously typing his name into a keyboard.

"Yes!" he practically screeched, punching the air with a fist. "Success!"

But then that person clearly changed their mind. Maybe they decided to write their story later, or perhaps not at all. They might even have been writing it _right now_, just without Cenred.

Cenred's face fell, and he flopped back to the floor.

Nobody liked him.

Just then, a shred of light pierced the darkness, and Cenred saw a figure moving towards him. It did occur to him that perhaps he had simply finally gone mad; but if madness meant company, he wasn't fussed.

The first thing he saw was an extremely blue pair of eyes, and then an eager hand was thrust out to meet him.

"I'm Nimueh."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi! Hope you like this chapter - I wasn't actually planning on writing anymore, the last chapter was just meant to be a oneshot, but people seemed to like it... so... here you go :) Review and let me know if you're interested in another however many chapters! Review and let me know if you aren't! Just review... please... *gets down on hands and knees and looks exceptionally pathetic*...**

Cenred watched the strange woman very cautiously.

"You're a witch," he eventually managed to point out.

"Err…" Nimueh wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. She looked down at herself; no pointy hat or broomstick, but she supposed it was still fairly obvious that she was one. Witches had spent centuries trying to crack that 'creepy' vibe that just seemed to intuitively put people off them, but they'd had limited success… Sure, she'd dealt with a fair amount of prejudice in her time, but this guy had to be a baddie, didn't he? Good guys didn't end up here. Why should he care whether she was a witch or not?

"I don't like witches…" he informed her, in a very childish tone.

_Oh great._ Nimueh thought to herself, with an internal rolling of eyes. _Three years of absolutely no human contact whatsoever, and I get landed with a simpleton…_

And then, all of a sudden, it occurred to Cenred that this woman was, in fact, a woman.

"How did you do that?"

"Excuse me?"

"How do you have a body?"

"What a stupid question… Why shouldn't I have a body?"

"Aren't you dead?"

"Absolutely. Dead as a very dead thing. Why do you ask?"

"How can you have a body if you're dead?"

"How can you have a conversation if you're dead? And yet, here we are… having one. Do you see my point?"

"No."

"You don't have a body because you have assumed that you wouldn't."

"Well, that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever…"

"I grow tired of your idiocy…"

What would once have been Cenred's eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer to the exceptionally impolite witch.

"Just who exactly do you think you are? You barge in here… Calling me names… Speaking nonsense…"

"I am not speaking nonsense! You are simply an imbecile!"

"There you go again! An _imbecile_? This is _my_ hellish void of nothingness, and you are my guest in it! You can treat me politely, or be on your way, witch!"

"And what, exactly, is wrong with my being a witch?"

"It was a witch who put me here in the first place!"

Nimueh paused thoughtfully. "Which one?"

"_Morgause_," Cenred spat her name distastefully out onto the ground.

"Oh! Morgause!" Niumeh clapped her hands together delightedly. "We haven't caught up in ages! How is she?"

"Oh… She's fine… I'm sure. Probably ruling Camelot by now…" Cenred turned away, and added "Stupid Camelot!" under his breath.

They fell into an extremely awkward silence.

"Yes… Well… I'm sorry about that. Morgause always did have a bit of a temper on her..." Nimueh chuckled fondly to herself. "I remember when she was only a baby…"

"How can you remember that?"

"As a High Priestess of the Old Religion, I helped to raise Morgause."

"You don't look old enough to have raised Morgause!"

Nimueh blushed. "Oh, hush! I _am_ a powerful sorceress, remember? I do have some abilities…"

Cenred seemed intrigued. "Exactly how old are you?"

"What an impertinent question…" Nimueh muttered, in a slightly teasing tone.

The silence they fell into now was a slightly more comfortable one than the previous one. But it was only slightly more comfortable.

"I don't trust witches," Cenred felt the need to remind himself out loud.

"As nice as that is to know… I don't think that you have much of an option. How long have you been here for?"

Cenred stopped, and thought long and hard about it; he had ceased to be aware of time passing. He wasn't entirely sure that time actually passed at all here.

"Exactly." Nimueh said, with a confident nod of the head. "Far too long. I have been here for longer… And I have only just managed to discover you… I am incredibly powerful; how long do you suppose it will take someone with your limited abilities to work their way out?"

Cenred wanted to be insulted, but he just didn't have it in him; to be perfectly honest, he really couldn't see himself getting out at all. The big, intellectual plans had never really been his strong point. He'd always been more of a stab-first-ask-questions-later kind of guy.

So that was how Cenred and Nimueh found themselves sort of, kind of, almost in cahoots.

"Just don't try anything funny…" he warned, pointing a finger in the face of the witch, who looked far too amused by his threat for his liking.

"You have a finger… Congratulations! I'm already rubbing off on you…"

And with that, Nimueh wandered off, to start concocting an ingenious plan; leaving Cenred staring in awe at the hand that had suddenly appeared in front of him. He found himself snapping his fingers, cleaning out under his nails and trying to read his palm: all just because he could…

"I have a hand…" he muttered to himself.

It wasn't much, but it was a start. He looked off into the darkness, in the direction Nimueh had just strolled off in, hearing snippets of her slightly mad mumblings. He smiled a little in spite of himself: she wasn't at all like Morgause.

It didn't mean he trusted her, though.

And he certainly didn't like her.

Not even a little bit.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I know this isn't my most popular story... But I've got a strange kind of affection for it. I'd really appreciate it if you'd review and let me know if it's just me who's interested in it, though... Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or read so far!**

"So…"

"So…"

Cenred sighed and stared blankly at Nimueh, letting the eyes he had only recently acquired communicate his boredom to her instead of speaking.

Nimueh observed his boredom with a slight frown, and then remembered a fun game she had enjoyed playing with the druids many years ago.

"You're fed up of all this waiting around, I suppose?"

"Yes! If only I had something to pass the time… Like a ball? We could throw it to each other, and see how long we could go without dropping it?"

"Um… I have a better idea."

Cenred slumped back against the nothingness sulkily. "Fine. Enlighten me with your much better idea."

"It's a game."

Cenred's ears began to exist right then and there just so that they could prick up to attention at the mention of a game. "I do like games…" he confessed, grinning just a little in anticipation of what was sure to be jolly good fun.

"Here are the rules: I am going to ask you a question."

"Any question?"

"Yes, any question."

"Alright…"

"And you have to answer 'yes' to that question."

"I have to answer 'yes'?"

"Yes. It's called the Yes Game, so you saying 'yes' is kind of the most important factor."

Cenred grew suspicious. "But… but what if you ask me to do something I don't want to do?"

"Like what?"

"Like… Oh… I don't know…" Cenred waved his hands around wildly as he tried to think of something. "What if you asked me to kill myself?"

Nimueh snorted. "Why would I ask you to kill yourself?"

"I don't know. You're a witch… Your motives are not important. What's important is that I don't want to kill myself."

"Well… I don't want you to kill yourself either."

"Oh, really? Why is that?"

Nimueh flushed a little, backpedalling in a manner that reminded her of a certain flustered handmaiden (comparing a diabolically evil witch such as herself with someone as sweet and innocent as Gwen made her so mad that her backpedalling simply increased, thus furthering her fury which in turn led to more backpedalling…)

"I didn't mean that I don't want you to kill yourself. I don't care if you kill yourself. Not that I do want you to kill yourself. Just that I don't not not want you to. You see?" If Nimueh was honest, even she didn't see what she was talking about. But still she continued to waffle on regardless.

"I couldn't care less about _you_ personally… I don't have anything to gain from you dying; I've got not grand evil scheme going on. Well, that's not strictly true. I've always got a grand evil scheme going on; it's just not even a little bit to do with you. I'd rather you were alive, to be honest. I wouldn't have much to do if you weren't here. Not that I need you, you understand. I'm self-reliant. You're just the only other person here…"

Cenred coughed.

"Sorry," Nimueh told him, with a shake of the head. "I have absolutely no idea where that came from."

"It's alright. It's not you; it's this place. You kind of lose your character here, you lose your sense of identity; you start picking up other people's traits. It's perfectly understandable." For instance, the 'real' Cenred would never have been that understanding. The 'real' Cenred probably wouldn't use that many big words in one speech either.

Nimueh nodded, trying to shake off the creepy feeling of just not being herself.

"So… where were we?" Cenred asked, shifting the conversation to a less awkward topic.

"Ah, yes. The Yes Game. You don't have to _do_ whatever I ask you to. You just have to say yes. It's not some crazy witch-manipulation spell; it's purely humorous."

Cenred looked sceptical. "It sounds positively childish to me."

"Do you have any better ideas?"

Cenred's silence answered for him.

"Then let's try!" Nimueh inhaled deeply, composing herself, a wicked grin slowly slinking across her lips. "Have you ever kissed a man?"

Cenred looked incensed, and growled at her.

"Now, now Cenred!" Nimueh told him, laughing. "If you say anything other than 'yes' you lose the game… So, have you ever kissed a man?"

Cenred rolled his eyes and muttered, "Yes," under his breath.

"Do you think that Arthur Pendragon is prettier than you?"

Cenred was positively outraged! There was absolutely no way that the arrogant, inbred Pendragon was prettier than him! Nobody was prettier than Cenred! Nobody! But, of course, because he hated to lose, Cenred did the unthinkable and said, "Yes."

Nimueh cackled. "Have you ever had your wicked way with a wilderin?"

"Yes."

"Are you secretly in love with Uther Pendragon?"

"Yes."

"Isn't Camelot just the _best place ever_?"

"Yes."

"Don't you just _love_ the Arthurian legend?"

"Yes." _Especially the bit where Arthur dies,_ Cenred added mentally.

"Wasn't Cornelius Sigan a cooler bad guy than you, even though he only appeared in Camelot for a few days?"

"Yes."

"All of your evil plans ultimately fail, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you think that your hair looks permanently greasy?"

Cenred literally snarled at Nimueh. She had crossed the line. No one insulted his hair. Ever.

"This game is stupid!"

"You're only saying that because you're a sore loser."

Cenred stuck his tongue out at Nimueh, and then squealed delightedly at the fact he had a tongue, which kind of undermined the whole 'angry Cenred' thing.

They sat there in silence for a bit, as Nimueh snickered to herself and Cenred sulked.

Eventually Nimueh pointed out, "It's your turn to think of something to do now."

"Can't you just get us out of here? I thought you were supposed to be an evil genius…"

"I can't get you out of here like that, and my plan takes two of us. So you're just going to have to find some way of amusing us until you're more than a hand, a tongue, two eyes and a pair of ears."

"Oh."

Silence again.

Eventually Cenred dared to speak.

"I have a game…"

"Oh?"

"Yeah… It's pretty simple. Who would you rather: Morgana or Morgause?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi :) I know it's been far too long since I updated this and I'm really really really sorry for that. If it helps, I have excuses, but I'm sure you'd rather read the chapter! Anyway... I'm sorry for my whining last a/n (I didn't mean it to sound whiney, I need to learn to not post updates late at night!) I just want to reassure _you_ (whoever _you_ are) that I will keep writing this, I promise. Can I just say, this fic basically goes out to Kizzia, who wanted Cenred and Nimueh to take over the world, Pinky-and-the-Brain style. It's going to happen! Thank you to everyone who has said they like the story!**

"Nimueh?" Cenred's disembodied lips called out. "There's quite an echo in here… Niiiiimmmmuuueehhh? Whheeerrreee aaarreee yyyoooouuuu? … Hhhhheeellllllloooooo?"

"I'm right behind you, you idiot."

"Argh!" Cenred squealed, jumping up in fright, and suddenly acquiring knees to give him extra bounce. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"It's good for you."

"It's only good for you if you have hiccups, and I didn't have hiccups. Also, since when where you interested in what's good for me? You're evil."

Nimueh frowned. "I take offence at that. You have a very narrow world view, Cenred. I'm only trying to help you grow back into a person, and it seems to be taking you an awfully long time," she poked the empty space between his knees and his ankles where his calves ought to have been accusingly, as evidence of this.

Cenred sniffed haughtily, which was quite a challenge as he still didn't have a nose.

They fell into another one of their famous awkward silences, which were by now so frequent, that they just weren't awkward any more.

"So…"

"So…"

"How was your day?"

Nimueh considered this question as she rolled her head around her neck. "Err…"

Cenred smiled a little to himself. 'Err' was the filler Nimueh used whenever she was actually thinking about answering your question. 'Um' was the filler she used when she wasn't listening. 'Ah' was the filler she used when she was planning on setting you on fire in exactly five seconds.

"Not bad," she decided eventually. "I found a new section of nothingness over there."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

"Hm. What did it look like?"

"Nothing."

"How interesting."

"That was what I said."

They were sitting down next to one another now, and Nimueh was clacking her heels together absentmindedly. "I was trying to remember this joke that Anhora told me once…"

"Anhora?" Cenred asked, straightening his back and all of a sudden needing to have a chest just so that he could puff it out. "Who is _Anhora_?"

"Hm? Oh… Keeper of the unicorn. Do you know him?"

Cenred ignored the question. "Keeper of the unicorn, eh? Sounds like a right sissy."

"Yes, well… That's as may be. Anyway… It was something about a druid and a dragon lord walk into a tavern… I just can't remember the punch line. It's so frustrating! I think it would have made you laugh…" Nimueh clenched her fists in irritation, and Cenred could tell she was close to cursing someone, just to vent her frustrations.

"It's alright, Nimueh," he told her, in the most soothing voice he could muster. "I'm sure I'll manage. Now… This Anhora, you're sure he was a sissy?"

Nimueh frowned. "What? Oh. Yes. He was rather sparkly. And big on robes, if I remember rightly."

"Good, good." Cenred began examining the boots he had only regained yesterday, when he had trod on his own foot (and therefore had needed to have a foot to tread on, a paradox if there ever was one).

Nimueh chewed on her lip.

Cenred started to hum.

"Don't hum."

"Why not?"

"Because it's irritating."

"Why is it irritating?"

"Because it's tuneless."

"Why is it tuneless?"

"Because you're just humming and humming nothing! With _no tune_, hence the word tune-_less_."

"But _why_?"

"Because I say so."

"But why do you say so?"

"Because I do."

"But why?"

_"Cen_red_…"_

"Why?"

"Because I am an extremely powerful sorceress and if you do not stop asking me _why_, I will slowly rip you apart, limb from limb, in the most excruciatingly painful way you can possibly imagine. Does that satisfy you?"

Cenred nodded.

"Good."

Cenred resisted the urge to start humming again, because he knew Nimueh wasn't one for empty threats.

It seemed that the conversation was over for now.

And then something extremely peculiar happened.

There was a _plop!_

And - out of nowhere - Nimueh's head came crashing down and landed on Cenred's only shoulder.

The bits of Cenred that there were suddenly became very stiff, and he shot the witch a suspicious look.

_Was she asleep?_

_On him?_

_Or was this some sort of trick?_

Growing more and more uncertain of himself by the minute, Cenred raised the one hand he was in possession of to poke Nimueh with, and nearly reached her ear before being interrupted by a very stern voice.

"DON'T. EVEN. THINK. ABOUT. IT."

Cenred gulped, and withdrew his hand extremely slowly.

"I am tired, and you are more comfortable than nothing," Nimueh informed him.

Cenred did not reply.

"I am going to go to sleep. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Cenred squeaked, eyeing the witch with great suspicion as her breathing grew heavier, half expecting her to pull some kind of crazy witch-prank on him.

But nothing happened.

So he simply closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep, reminding himself as he did so that this didn't mean that he trusted her, of course. None of it did…


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Slightly shorter chapter than the previous ones, but better than nothing, which is what you've been getting for a while... Sorry! I will finish this. This chapter contains spoilers for s4 ep 1.**

"Nimueh! Nimueh! I've got arms!"

"All the better to carry out our evil plans with."

Cenred smiled proudly, putting his hands on the empty space where his hips ought to be. "Ooh!" he wiggled his elbows. "These match my hands and fingers perfectly!"

Nimueh rolled her eyes.

"Do you think I should paint my fingernails black? To capture that 'rebel without a cause' look?"

"No," answered Nimueh simply.

Cenred felt slightly deflated for a minute, and then he simply began to fold and unfold his arms, before breaking out in some freestyle disco dancing.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" asked Cenred, moving to hide behind Nimueh, and continuing to groove like John Travolta.

"You know what I mean, Cenred. You look ridiculous."

"I resent that."

"You're useless. I don't know why I picked you to be my evil sidekick in the first place."

"Because there wasn't anybody else?" suggested Cenred, whilst hand-jiving.

"Oh. Right. I hate my life."

"_After_life. You hate your afterlife."

"That's what I meant."

At that very moment, before they could discuss the topic any further, there was a thunk.

"Morgana?"

Nimueh promptly slapped Cenred. "How dare you call me by another woman's name?"

"Ow!" Cenred rubbed his newly-acquired cheek. "That wasn't me! Did that sound like me to you? Honestly! Women…"

They both turned towards the source of the noise, looking curious, awkward, and curiously awkward.

Morgause was sitting in a grumpy heap on the floor, largely mirroring their emotions.

"Oh," she huffed. "I suppose I'm dead, then. Whoopee."

"Morgause!" squealed Nimueh, scurrying towards the other woman and picking her up the floor. "Long time no see!"

Cenred, however, was not quite so eager to see his ex, and the woman responsible for his current situation, conversing with his… well… whatever Nimueh was.

"Nimueh!"

"Goodness!" Nimueh assessed Morgana's appearance. "What happened to you?"

Morgause huffed. "War. It ages a woman."

Nimueh tried not to snort. It wasn't as if she hadn't endured her fair share of skirmishes during her time, and _she'd_ managed to maintain a skin regime.

Cenred, who was standing watching them, then observed the phenomenon that will unsettle any man: both of the women, who were talking in hushed whispers that he could not hear, turned to him and stared, before bursting into giggles. Cenred decided he did not like having Morgause here with them at all.

"I think you're going to have to leave, Morgause," he told her, looking grumpy.

"What?"

"I don't trust you; you've already tried to kill me once already."

Nimueh looked between the two of them and frowned.

"But Cenred…" Morgause purred, stepping closer and smirking at him. "I thought you _liked _me…"

Cenred twitched.

Nimueh decided she definitely didn't like this. "I'm in charge here. As nice as it's been to see you, I think I'm going to have to agree with my minion. Cenred and I are a little busy at the moment, and we don't need anybody else around, distracting us from our evil plans. Off you pop then. I suggest you go and find your own stretch of nothingness."

Morgause huffed and promptly disappeared, muttering to herself in the distance.

"So…" Nimueh turned to Cenred, looking most seriously displeased. "How do you know Morgause?"

"Errm, it's a bit of a long story, really."

"Oh, I think we have enough time."

Cenred stared uncomfortably at Nimueh for a while, before opening his mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by Morgause reappearing from the opposite direction to the one she'd walked off in.

"Yes, yes! I know! I'm supposed to be going!" the witch grumbled. "But if you just keep walking you end up back where you started!"

Cenred ran his hands through his precious hair and growled. There was no way having Morgause prowling about could possibly be a good thing.


End file.
